There is a string of very explicit photographs here. Some work pretty well, such as the boy in the bubble. I think this one doesn't work well, so I was interested to analyze why.

To say it is explicit is an understatement. The sign is formally framed by the camera to present the sign dead on - screaming - look here! So, I did. But all I found was banal sentiments, and nothing clever, profound, humorous or ironic. The "Before I Die.." hook is great, but nothing of interest grabs the bait. At that point it is far more like a document and far less like a photograph. (There's no play of light and shadow, for instance.)

I do think it was a good photographic instinct though. To make it work better, the photographer might have waited (the sign isn't going anywhere) until someone came into the picture, and perhaps wrote on the board. That would allow plenty of opportunity for a more engaging picture - before, during, or after writing on the board. Or even just looking. The possibilities are then endless. You could even end up with an ambiguous photograph if that was your intent.

One of my favorite street shots ....in the misty rain ... Latvian kids through the fence . Waistlevel viewing helps with catching candids ... this is Hassy with normal lens 1989 Probably not that many who shoot with a tripod for street shots :-)

An early digital test shot for me: my D200 with a 24mm cunningly disguised as a 35mm.

I thought it was a jewel-like camera, but it now sits doing nothing. As, really, does most of the other stuff, too. Guess the sweet bird of motivation got shot somewhere in a forest. Worse: it might be prisoner in a golden cage. Why don't you write, sweet one; whisper in my ear?

Looking again, I am seeing the case for the title: it is of the same vintage as the photograph. Where have all the chicks gone?

Imitated the lamb, and gone to the slaughter.

They became feminists and thus lost their God-given natural power and superiority. I never met a girl who couldn't make her point without the need to be strident, which most seemed to know would only be counterproductive. Why do we never know what we have untill we lose it or, worse, destroy it ourselves?